More Than Anything
by e9j9p9
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle, they warm each other up. Post-DH, Pre-Epilogue. Rated M for lemons. Read & Review, please.


**Please be warned that this is my very first time writing/publishing any fanfiction. That being said, I'm open to any constructive criticism anyone may have!**

It was the end of an era; the darkness that had dominated their youth had finally been dispelled.

Everyone had always imagined that victory would be directly followed by celebrations and joy, not the feelings of emptiness and loss and bitter cold and drizzle, even in May. It was as though the weather understood their need for seclusion and quiet.

Hermione didn't think the Burrow had ever known such quiet in all of its days. The last time she was a guest here, they were amidst the preparations for a wedding. It had been less than a year since that time, but it felt to her as though two or three lifetimes had come and gone.

The dim, grey-tinged light began to filter into the tiny guest room that had once belonged to Percy as another sleepless night came to an end. She wasn't sure why she couldn't sleep now that she was in her own room, in a proper bed after months on a cot in a tent with the boys. Nonetheless, Hermione's fourth night here should have been filled with peaceful slumber and instead had played out a ridiculous jumble of the best and worst moments of the past weeks.

In all truth, she did not want to go downstairs and rejoin the tight, forced smiles of the others who were feeling the losses much more profoundly than herself. While she was indeed grieving those who had been lost, they were not her children, her brother, or anything close to a parent.

_Perhaps I should go and leave them in peace,_ she wondered to herself. She proceeded to drift off into another dream-filled sleep. She did not hear the first round of knocks at her door and when she awoke with dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes, she chose to ignore the second round of people seeking her company or inquiring after her well-being.

The sun was beginning to set on her fifth day of seclusion at the Burrow and a selfish corner of her mind was still toying with the idea of leaving this place behind, just for a little while, until the pain had subsided slightly. Hermione hated looking into the tiny mirror above the bathroom sink and seeing the scars which would never fade due to being inflicted by dark magic. She hated watching a woman who had once led her family effortlessly stare at her hands uselessly. She hated trying to make conversation and not knowing what to say.

There was but one thing she did not hate. She loved him, madly and desperately. She knew she would always stay for him. Right now, he needed her and that was bigger than what she wanted. Tomorrow, she would leave the bedroom, get dressed, and hold the hands of those who needed comfort. Today, she had just been too tired.

She was once again drifting in and out of a fitful sleep as the floorboards outside of her room creaked. Wand at the ready, she sprang from her bed, and pointed it at the door. As the adrenaline subsided, she remembered she was safe. Shaking, chest heaving she made her way back to bed.

_How long will it take to stop reacting like this? _Hermione wondered, while at the same time, noting that someone had paused right outside of her door. She could see the crack of light framing the door was interrupted by two feet. A soft tap soon followed.

She rose quietly, wondering how late it was. The constant quiet made telling time difficult. She opened her door to find Ron, shaking and looking slightly frantic. He quickly hugged her and took her by the shoulders, appraising her for any sign of injury or illness.

"W-what are you doing?" She whispered, disturbed by his demeanour.

"Nobody'd seen you, or heard from you all day. I was … worried. I didn't know where you were," he stammered.

They backed into the dark room, and sat on her bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone … I just couldn't face you all today," she murmured, stroking his hair as his shivers subsided. Ron leaned his head against her shoulder and sighed deeply as she breathed in his unique scent of parchment and fresh grass. "I'm sorry. I just don't know how to act around everyone. We're all hurting so much."

"Which is why we all need each other." He pulled his head up and looked her in the eyes. He then wrapped his arms around her, making her feel warm and small and safe all at the same time.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry. I thought that when we got together, somehow it wouldn't be like this. We'd be … happier. Y'know?"

"I'm very happy to be with you," Hermione replied simply. The left corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile. "We have a _long_ time to be happy together. Things are sad right now, but it'll get better soon, I promise," she continued. A strangled sigh escaped him. She took the initiative to capture his lips with her own.

It was as though he was trying to fuse himself to her, she was suddenly being held so tightly and kissed so fervently. She felt something wet on her face and pulled away hastily. Tears were pouring from his eyes. "Please … let me stay here, with you. Just for tonight, I need to," he whispered in a voice so full of pain she could not say no. She nodded her head, and his grip on her back tightened.

They lay back onto the tiny twin bed, face to face, limbs entwined. Her heart was pounding so hard in her ears that when his tear-filled eyes met her own and he said it, she would have completely missed it if not for the movement of his lips. She hadn't properly heard the words, but she knew what they were. "I love you, too," she murmured.

The third time he kissed her, it was entirely different once more. The first time had been so furious, needing to express the years of pent-up feelings in a hurried moment when they didn't know if they would survive the night to ever kiss again. The second time, which had only just happened, was so desperate and full of pain. This time it was what she had imagined his kiss would be. It was tender. Gentle, with something more intense hiding behind the slightly parted lips. She knew that he would never ask her to do anything she wasn't ready for and that only made her want him more.

After what could have been several seconds, minutes or hours, she retreated and sat up. A look of confusion crossed his face. Slowly, with trembling hands, she reached for the hem of her shirt and began to pull it upwards. It had just reached her navel when he sat up on an even level with her and put his hands on hers, stilling her motion. "What are you doing?" he murmured, as though the answer was not completely obvious. She raised one hand, gripped his chin, looked him directly in the eye and nodded slowly. He pushed her other hand from her shirt and pulled it over her head himself.

She closed her eyes in the moment where he first looked upon the pale, scarred skin of her naked torso. In the stifling silence, she could hear his shaking breath and he let out a very quiet, just-discernible moan. "You. Are. _Beautiful._" he stated. Her eyes opened, and she smiled at him. He returned the same stunned smile as he had just after their very first kiss.

Their lips found each other once more, and where his passion had been restrained earlier, he was showing it in full force now. He had managed to pull her on top of him, so that she was straddling his hips and his callused hands ran all over the soft skin of her back, causing goosebumps to raise all over her. _Who knew a back could be so sensitive_. She knew she wanted to feel him as closely as possible. Still kissing, she reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it as high as she could before they had to briefly part lips to rid him of the irksome article of clothing. Finally, when she went in to embrace him once more, they were as close as could be, skin to skin. The warmth of his flesh against her burned away the chill of the weather and grief that had unknowingly clung to her inside and out for the past week. A shuddering gasp was elicited from her at the overwhelming intimacy of the moment.

His lips moved downwards to her neck, and a new chill ran through her spine. She was certain that her temperature had gone up several degrees. Before she could properly react, he wrapped an arm firmly around her and flipped them over, so that he was now on top and she on her back. From this position, his weight rested on top of her like an anchor that held her somewhere between reality and Heaven. He kissed his way to her collarbone, nipping her neck lightly along the way, causing her back to arch off the bed. Consequently her hips were pressed against his, and suddenly she was made keenly aware that only two thin pairs of cotton pyjama pants separated them from being _totally _skin to skin. In a primal reaction, he pressed his hips against hers and she was left wholly certain that tonight, they would end up _totally_ skin to skin as she felt a part of him she had never seen in their seven years as best friends press into her urgently.

Her mind wandered northwards as she realized that Ron's hands were tracing spirals and circles up her ribcage. She had never been particularly mystified by her breasts, as she had always found them to be a little on the small side. She suddenly became embarrassed at the thought that he was about to feel them and she was about to stop him when a hand enclosed around one and he made a whole new noise - something like a cross between a roar and a groan. "Mmmmmm, you are perfect," he breathed into her ear as any feelings of self-consciousness quickly fled. He traced down her neck once more with his lips before kissing the slight valley in the middle of her chest. He worked his way over, finally hitting the jackpot in closing his mouth around her left nipple. Electricity shot through her body as she clutched the bedsheets and bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out. None of the fumbling ministrations of boys prior had ever elicited such a feeling of heat and desire. His tongue flicked the sensitive nub, seeing her positive reaction, and he moved to the other side, repeating the action to the same accolades.

Her breasts, as wonderfully pleasurable as the experience had been, were not his final destination. His light kisses continued down her body, her ribs, her stomach, a playful tongue darting into her navel, which earned a giggle at the ticklish sensation. At last, he planted a firm kiss just above her right hipbone. His hands, which had been tracing up and down her sides, moved to the top of her pants. Head still bent over her skin, his eyes raised to meet hers. "Yessss," she hissed, and her voice sounded so womanly that it was foreign to her own ears.

She raised her hips as his hands slid beneath the elastic and reached under to cup her bum. She felt the cool air of the room on her desire-heated skin as the fabric was pulled down her legs. Her heart was beating as fast as it had during any battle or chase and it seemed as though every nerve in her body was on fire. Finally she lay completely naked before him. He was on his knees above her, staring down at her in total silence, his eyes roaming everywhere as though he could not take her in as a whole. She watched his chest heave and saw his jaw tense. Suddenly, he threw himself back down on top of her and pressed his lips to hers, wholly unrestrained. She felt his tongue teasing at her lips, and she opened her mouth to let him in.

His hands continued to run up and down her body, but notably skirted around the area he had just exposed. _Typical Ron, _mused her lust-fogged mind. Being a woman who knew what she wanted, she took control. She wrapped her legs around him and crossed her ankles. She flexed upwards, pressing the damp, exposed womanhood into the hard shaft that she could now feel in great detail through his pants. The friction was delicious, as her breath escaped in a low moan. In truth, she had very little experience in this domain of pleasure. She hadn't had any time whatsoever to take care of her needs over the past year, and prior to that, she had just about always been sharing a room with someone. However, she planned to put what she did know about her own body to good use.

"Mmmmroll overmmmm," she managed to get out. His eyes opened as he pulled back to adjust their position. She took in the glassy blue orbs. "Do you want to …" she began, trying to control the trembling in her voice.

"Honestly?" - she nodded - "More than anything in the world. I don't even mean just right now, I mean for years. More than winning the Quidditch Cup." A wide grin spread across her face.

"All right then." In a swift, but not particularly graceful motion, she reached down to remove his pants. She suddenly realized that she had never actually seen a real erection in person. For a girl who prided herself on knowledge in a situation, she was about to be completely out of her depth. Swallowing her nerves, she pulled down one leg of the pants, then the other. Her gaze had been focused on his left knee for a while, but slowly, her eyes drifted upwards. There it was. A small but dense patch of red hair surrounded it. She surmised that it was a good two inches longer than her hand, with a slick purple head. For such a bizarre-looking organ, she still found it quite attractive. Perhaps seeing the evidence of his desire for her, knowing she had made him this way contributed. Whatever the case, she knew that she liked what she saw very much indeed.

She glanced toward his face, and found him to be staring at her intently. She leaned over and pecked him on the neck. "I have to tell you something …" she whispered, the trembling she had tried in vain to control completely audible by this point. "I've never done this before."

The white of his teeth stood out so clearly as a smile stretched along his face. "Me neither. It was always going to be with you." For a boy whose words had hurt her so in the past, he was batting a thousand tonight.

She took his lips once more with her own and found herself flipped back over. Quickly, his nervous fingers had found her centre and were tentatively stroking the fine hairs that covered it. She pressed her pelvis more firmly into him when something felt particularly good and finally reached down to grasp his member. The hardness of it took her by surprise, as did the heat. She ran her hands up and down it a few times before a shuddering breath escaped him. "Hermione, you're going to have to stop, I won't last much longer as is …" he gasped out. She nodded and instead guided the organ to where his hands were. His eyes met hers, asking the question and she nodded once more.

He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed forward. She felt the invasion and a second later, the sharp pain she had known would come. A high-pitched gasp escaped her lips and a tear pushed its way out of her eye. His eyes had shut at the first moment of contact, only to open at the noise she made. He frowned at her expression and kissed where the tear had ran down her cheek. "You all right?" he whispered.

"I just need a second to adjust," she whispered. Already the pain was indeed subsiding to a dull ache. After what felt like a very long time of being perfectly still, she breathed. "Okay."

His hips began to flex slowly, back and forth. The feeling was completely new and incomparable, his weight on her, him inside of her, gliding in and out. She watched his nostrils flare as he tried to hold back. With one hand, she reached up to stroke his arm. He leaned forward to kiss her and so his position inside of her was adjusted, leading to something wonderful being grazed. Her nails clung to his skin as her back arched and she hissed. She felt her internal muscles tighten further around him and she saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He buried his head into the pillow next to her and proceeded to let out a very primal growl. The noise was so basic that she found it to be quite erotic. With one hand wrapped around his shoulder, the other stroked his slightly damp hair as he regained slight control.

He managed to raise his head and look at her. His breath was coming in sharp gasps and his eyes were slightly out of focus, as if he were only half in the real world, half in a pleasurable paradise. She smiled up at him, with her hair fanned out around her head and began to move in response to his thrusts. His managed to work out the syllables, "Er-my-nee … gonna …" His entire body tensed and he pressed forward so hard that she could feel their hipbones grinding into each other. She felt him swell inside of her and knew instantly what was happening.

For a long minute, he remained suspended above her, jaw slack and eyes screwed shut. Finally, he eased out of her and rolled over onto his back. He worked to catch his breath. "Sorry," he panted. "Didn't mean for it to be so … quick. It was just too good."

She giggled and rested her head on his chest. "It was … perfect. I wouldn't change a thing. We've got a long time to perfect that."

"Merlin, that is the first time I've felt something other than tired or sad in forever," he sighed, running his fingers through her damp hair, that must have looked quite unruly by that point. As the high of the moment wore off, reality slowly creeped back into their minds.

"Mmm, we'll feel this way all the time soon enough. And when you need a pick-me-up …" she planted a kiss on his cheek. "You know where to find me.

**Thanks for reading.**

**I'd love to write more, and if this one seems to generate positive feedback, my brain is way too full of ideas for future fics!**


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